Short Stories
by SinclairWhite
Summary: Collection of shorts usually around 500 words. Each is based off a random word pulled from the dictionary as inspiration and they're mostly random fluff, so I don't feel like they need separate stories. The first is solely a young Hermione, but, just a warning, the rest include Draco Malfoy.
1. Nibble

No romance in this one whatsoever, just a young Hermione. Honestly, I think this one is the cutest of the bunch. The word the dictionary gave me was nibble and it led, somehow, to this. Enjoy. Ta ta.

S. White

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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Nibble

Hermione Granger nibbled carefully on her toast, biting away small pieces and then closely scrutinizing the bread in her hand. Her parents sat on either side of the table from her, her mother doing the morning crossword and her father reading the rest of the paper, sipping his tea. They weren't paying her much attention at the moment and she was letting her imagination run wild.

Hermione had met a wonderful person yesterday. She meant wonderful in the sense of filling her with wonder rather than a particularly good experience, although the man had been pleasant enough. Her mother had ushered her away quickly, despite her protests. He had been nice to her, and besides she was almost eight years old now, she could take care of herself. She had been playing in the yard as the man walked down the street, whistling with his hands in his trouser pockets. He had been wearing a black suit, but it had purple and green pinstripes, she remembered that very clearly, and he had a bowler hat which he raised when he saw her.

"Hello, little lady. How are you on this fine day?" He asked with a smile when he drew level with her.

"Good, sir. And you?" She had said politely.

"Excellent, miss, excellent," He laughed. "You know, little lady, you look like a witch I once knew."

"You knew a witch?" She said, her face lighting up with interest.

"Yes, I certainly did. And you know she cast a horrible spell on me?" He said with a grin. "It made me tap dance until I apologized for calling her cauldron old and rusty."

Hermione had laughed and laughed. She knew there weren't really witches, of course, and it was just a grown up making up things because he thought it was funny and sweet. But it _was_ a funny and sweet story and she liked it.

"Goodbye, little miss. Remember to be kind with your curses when you learn some yourself." He said with a wink.

"I will, sir." She said with a smile and a laugh.

The man had been walking away when her mother had noticed and rushed over, putting an arm around Hermione's shoulders and pushing her back toward the house. But Hermione waved to the man when he glanced back anyway, much to her mother's annoyance. But she couldn't see the harm in him, even if he had a wild imagination and made up silly stories. Still there was something about it that caught her and pulled her along like a leaf in the wind. She finished carefully nibbling her toast and placed a little bread pointed hat on a little bread figure in a witchy dress.


	2. Space Ship

The next word the dictionary throws at me and it's also an interesting choice of words. I would normally use 'rocket' or something like that, and the launch of the Orion was around when I wrote it, so I picked it to discuss. Ta ta. Also, any thoughts about the name Liam? I'm not sure it's as good as it could be.

S. White

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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Space Ship

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Hermione Granger turned to look at the source of the voice; the little boy running up to her, his sister following behind him. It was Liam, her sweet, lovely, little five year old son and her beautiful, amazing, seven year old daughter Rose, the two people she loved most on this earth. With her husband and all her dearest friends coming next, of course. Liam had her shade of brown hair, although his was straight and Rose had her curls but in an angelic blonde. Liam was holding a muggle newspaper in his hands, getting smiles from the muggles passing them on the street.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Look! They rocketed the space ship!"

"The word is 'launched', sweetheart, not 'rocketed'."

"They launched the space ship!" He said, barely pausing. He held up the paper for her and she read "NASA Successfully Launches Orion Spacecraft".

"They say they're trying to get to Mars, mum." Rose said, "Will you tell us about Mars?"

"Please, mommy?" Liam said, tugging on her jacket.

"Of course, but after we get home, okay?" She said, smiling at her children. Both had inherited their parents' mutual love to learn, but most of what she knew about the planets she had learned in astronomy at Hogwarts and therefore was not fit for conversation around muggles. Rose's muggle teachers had been shocked at how advanced she was, even when she began school, as had Liam's. He had just started in private school, the same one they had sent Rose to as well, and he asked questions at an astonishing pace about anything and everything.

"Okay, mum."

"Where did your father go?" Hermione was looking around but she couldn't see that familiar shade of hair.

"He said he was going to find some ciw-ciwil-ciwilizz..." Liam tried.

"Civilization," Rose filled in while Hermione rolled her eyes.

"He would say that. Come on, that means he'll be at the oldest or fanciest place around. If we don't pass somewhere like that, Twinnings tea shop is one street over and he'll be there."

The children hurried ahead, looking in all the shop doors they passed while Hermione walked behind, keeping a careful eye on them, her purchases in a couple of bags over her shoulders. They ended up in Twinings after all, and the children rushed straight to the back of the store to look at the brick of tea and the tea caddies in the little museum there, Hermione following when someone spoke in her ear right behind her.

"Hello, Granger. Strange, meeting you here, of all places."

Hermione spun around, knowing she recognized the voice and laughing when she saw its owner. "Hello, Draco. How are you?"

"I was doing well, after giving my dear wife and darling kiddies the slip earlier, but it appears they've caught up with me." He drawled with his hands in the pockets of his tailored coat.

"So you did this deliberately, is that what you're saying?"

"I did say my _dear_ wife and _darling _kiddies, yes?" He said, sauntering up to her and putting an arm around her waist, but she just frowned at him. "Am I forgiven, my lovely, wonderful wife?" He kissed her cheek.

"Only if you got my tea while you were here."

"Of course I did." He held up the bag as proof.

"Alright, my ridiculous husband, you're forgiven," She said, laughing and returning the kiss on his cheek. "Now, let's go home."

"Daddy! Daddy!" Liam shouted.

"Inside voice, sweetie," Hermione reminded him, smoothing his ruffled hair lovingly.

"They launched a space ship!" Liam continued, although it was in a quieter voice.

"Great! What's a space ship?" Draco grinned, and then looked over at his wife's face and quickly added "Just joking."

"Good. Come on, sweetie. Rose, dear? Oh, there you are, come on, dear, time to go home."


	3. Kitchen Garden

I was a little lost for a bit when I got kitchen garden in my dictionary, but I decided to write something with Hermione and thought this was something she might do as a hobby. Ta ta.

S. White

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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Kitchen Garden

After her marriage Hermione kept a small kitchen garden where she grew some of the vegetables and herbs they used to cook with in the summer. They didn't need it, they certainly had enough money, but she kept it all the same. She wasn't much of a gardener and she didn't spend very much time on it, but it always gave her something to do and occasionally pulled her away from her books. Despite her love of books she knew she shouldn't spend all day every day at them. She was currently crouched between the tomatoes and carrots, weeding.

"Hi mommy!" A voice said from the edge of the garden and she looked up. It was her son Liam, and she smiled.

"Hi sweetheart."

"Can I help?" He said eagerly.

"Sure, you have your shoes on? Good, be careful not to step on any plants."

Liam walked carefully over, tiptoeing across the soil. He crouched beside her and she showed him what plants were weeds and what to leave in the ground and soon he was happily pulling up the unwanted ones by the roots. He worked for a few minutes before he started to get bored and looked around him.

"Why do we do this, mommy?"

"The weeds are bad for the vegetables. They take all the plant food and our vegetables go hungry, so we get rid of them."

"Oh. Why don't we just buy vegetables?"

"Because this gets me out in the sun, sweetie." Hermione said with a smile. "Why don't you back in and play with your sister?"

"She's reading." He said glumly. He might be a sharp boy but he still had trouble sitting still.

"There you are, squirt." Her husband said from the house door and Hermione smiled at him, shading her eyes. He walked out and scooped up Liam who laughed. "I don't know why she keeps this garden either, squirt."

"Just because you don't need to do something doesn't mean you shouldn't, Mr. Malfoy." Hermione said, standing and putting her hands on her hips.

"And just because you can doesn't mean you should, Mrs. Granger." He countered with a grin.

"That's Mrs. Granger-Malfoy to you, sir." She poked him in the chest and then kissed him on the cheek as he laughed.

"Forgive me, Mrs. Granger-Malfoy, my beautiful lady." He said, and returned the kiss on her cheek, making Liam stick out his tongue at all the affection between his parents. "Come on, squirt, dinner's almost ready. Are you coming, love?"

"I'm almost done weeding; I'll be a few minutes." Hermione said with a smile and returned to her little garden as her loving husband shook his head and carried their son back into the house.


	4. Durham

Seemed like a good and kind of cute idea when I got 'Durham' as a word. Ta ta.

S. White

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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Durham

Hermione had convinced them all to go on a group vacation in the middle of the summer and so the middle of a warm August found her little family and the Potters in the city of Durham. They were just leaving Durham Castle and Rose and Liam ran ahead, the three Potter children and Teddy hot in pursuit.

"It's too bad Ron couldn't come." Ginny said as they walked out of the impressive gates, one eye on their children. "That was a nice place."

"I don't think he would have been that interested." Hermione said, shaking her head.

"She has a point. Although Ashley might have been. They don't have as many castles in the United States, right?" Harry said.

"No, they don't, and I think most of them were built only a century or two ago to emulate the great manors and castles here."

"Mione?" Harry interrupted when she paused.

"Yes?" She said, taken aback. There was chuckling beside her.

"We don't need a whole lesson." Harry said with apologetic grin. The others laughed and Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, fine, then, maybe the children will be interested." She said and wandered off to check on them and Harry watched her go in apprehension.

"Don't worry, mate, she does that to me at least once a month." Drawled Draco Malfoy, his hands in the pockets of his slacks that he wore despite the warm weather.

"You let yourself in for that." Harry grinned.

"Not necessarily. She could have thrown the ring back at me or left me at the altar." Draco shrugged although he grinned back.

"I can't see her leaving you at the altar, she's too honest for that, but I wouldn't put it past her to throw something at you."

"She threw a spoon at me a couple weeks ago." Draco said sulkily.

"A spoon?" Ginny said, an eyebrow raised.

"Well. It was plastic, and I kind of deserved it, but still!"

"Draco Malfoy what are you saying about me?!" Hermione's voice cut through Harry and Ginny's laughter. She was glaring at him from the end of the walk where she and the six children waited and Draco grinned.

"Nothing, my love." He called back.

"Are you sure?" Hermione said as Harry, Ginny, and Draco reached her and their children.

"Yes, my love." He said with a grin and kissed her cheek.

"Ew!" Liam stuck out his tongue at his parents' affection.

"Someday it won't be ew, munchkin." Draco said, ruffling his son's hair.

"Where are we going next?" Teddy asked.

"Vote time!" Harry called to the assembled children. "Cathedral or lunch?"

The votes were overwhelmingly in favour of lunch and their parents laughed. Hermione opened up a map of the area as her husband gave her another kiss on the cheek, and she shot him a smile in return. Draco Malfoy was a bit of an idiot but she loved him all the same.


	5. Strength

Warning you now, this is a dark one. 'She' is Hermione, but you can decide who 'he' is. But it was one of the first things that came to mind when I picked the word 'strength.' Ta ta.

S. White

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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Strength

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Well, if that was true then she should have been one of the strongest people in England by now. If she was strong, why did she wake up every morning, drenched in sweat, and the figures of the night still fading before her eyes? It was usually Bellatrix Lestrange, but her friends also featured frequently. Lupin, Tonks, and Fred would lie there for hours and she would be forced to look, unable to blink or look away, or cry. Sometimes she would be lying with them, between them, but the relief of being with the dead and the end of the pain and the struggle was destroyed by the crying of a baby. Teddy would wail and cry near her for hours and in the dream she knew he would die if she couldn't reach him, but her limbs would not move. The dead could not help the living.

She knew they were only dreams, only nightmares. but they haunted her while she was awake, too. It was effecting her appetite and her skin was getting pale and waxy, her cheeks gaunt, her eyes dark and sunken. She felt as if she was wasting away, slowly and painfully joining those who she missed so dearly. She desperately wanted to and wished she could. But she couldn't. For Harry, for Ginny, for Ron, and the little wailing Teddy in her nightmares, she couldn't. How she wished she could join those who were gone, sink into the black and cool oblivion of unfeeling death. It was only the thought of the people still with her that she was able to force herself to eat anything, force a smile, force herself to live.

She needed help, she knew. Ginny helped. Ginny understood that she had been left traumatized by the Battle but also the year long fight. And he helped. He had told her to forgive herself. She had been shocked, at first, but then she realized he was right. It took her time, his help, Ginny's help, other's help. But she forgave herself. She forgave herself for living when they had died. She forgave herself for doing the job she had to do while others fought for them. She forgave herself for not being there when they needed help. She forgave herself for being afraid and for feeling such pain at their passing. She forgave them for leaving her, for leaving all of them. She forgave herself for feeling abandoned. She forgave herself for everything.

And slowly her cheeks filled out, her eyes brightened, her hair regained its sheen, and her skin its colour. She could eat more and more at every meal and she could stop faking smiles. She laughed again. She stopped wishing for the chilly lack of feeling to numb the pain. The pain was still there, of course, it would never go away, but she learned to live again. There was life after death for the living, as impossible as it may seem. She had to live for the friends who were alive and those who had fallen, and for those who needed her, like little Teddy. Besides, the dead wouldn't want her to live in pain. So she smiled for them and for her.


	6. Frisky

Just for getting through the dark one, here's a silly one. Ta ta.

S. White

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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Frisky

Hermione's ears flicked as they picked up the click of the front door but she didn't move. It was comfortable here, in front of the fire, and her cat mind refused to get up. If he wanted to see her, he would have to come to her, not the other way around. She heard him put his broom away and the grunt as he pulled off his Quidditch robes and the soft thump of them hitting the floor. She listened to the footsteps as they wandered about the flat and finally came to rest about three metres behind her.

"There you are." Draco said, crouching to scratch her head gently. She tried to stop herself purring automatically.

Meow.

"How long have you been here?"

Meow.

"Not long, huh? Are you going to turn back any time soon?"

She flicked her tail in his face.

"Feeling frisky?" He grinned down at her.

The face she turned up to him was clearly unimpressed.

"What? It's legitimate cat food. You don't want a cat treat?"

She didn't move.

"Alright, alright, be like that. I am allowed to lay down with you for a bit?"

Meow.

She gave another flick of the tail and settled her head again with an air of finality. He really was ridiculous, sometimes. Frisky. Merlin. Who said that? It was a wholly ridiculous word. He padded over and she felt him curl up behind her and the warmth of his body pressed against her back. She couldn't help but press her small body against his soft fur. He was so comfortable, even if he was ridiculous. She might be able to resist sitting in boxes, with a bit of work, but she didn't think she would ever be able to resist cuddling with Draco in his dog form. After an hour or so he nuzzled her and they both changed back, and she let him kiss her. But when he offered the bag of treats with a grin, she dumped them on his head with a flick of her wand.


	7. Cypress

Been a while, I know, but I'm still here. Just threw this together today based on the word cypress. I've been watching the Sherlock Holmes mysteries and all I could think of was a tree near one of those magnificent country houses. Ta ta.

S. White

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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Cypress

Hermione always remembered her first sight of the house because of the huge cypress at the gate. It was a beautiful place, old, with parts of it still in the Tudor red brick but the front refaced in the Georgian style and the inside was just as varied and just as awe inspiring as the out. She had spent days after they arrived just wandering from room to room, admiring. There were wood paneled walls and amazing painted ceilings, and exquisite art whichever way she turned. And in the midst of it all, there was an old, tattered couch which had belonged to her parents before her, looking incredibly out of place in all this splendor.

But he didn't care. Trust him to pick a place like this, and she had been far too enchanted by it to refuse. It was like living in a fairy tale. And there was her ridiculous Prince Charming, sprawled out half asleep on her couch, a blanket covering him. She left him to rest, wandering slowly up to a canvas and examining the details of it, pulling her thin silk robe tighter around herself. It was a beautiful work of a school scene and she couldn't help but admire the figures of the subjects and the brushwork of the artist. The eyes of the students were filled with such clear yearning for knowledge as they listened to their teacher it was palpable. He said that was the same look she gave anyone who told her anything she hadn't heard before but she thought he was just being silly.

The next painting was of a lady wearing nothing but a long wrap of pink fabric but still she had to admire the skill of the artist in getting the fabric to appear see through. And the artist hadn't neglected the trees in the background either. Cypresses, painted as real as if the landscape existed somewhere, and she wondered if it did.

"Not bad, but I'd still take you or her." Said a voice behind her. Arms wrapped around her and a chin rested on her shoulder.

"Good to know." She said, rolling her eyes.

"Her scarf would look better in green, though."

"You think everything would look better in green."

"I see I got you into some though." He said, plucking at the robe.

"Only because you hid all my old ones!" She protested.

"They were old and only the best for you, my love."

"Well, my dear, they were old because I spent years breaking them in." She said wryly.

"Admit it, you like this better." He whispered and she could just imagine his grin.

"Maybe. I'd like it more if it was red."

"I'll make you a deal, my love. You get rid of the old ones and we'll get red and green ones for both of us."

"Both? You in red?" She considered the prospect. It was appealing.

"Promise."

"Fine, we'll get rid of them whenever you want."

Suddenly she was scooped off her feet and she laughed as he carried her back across the room, dumping her on the bed. Draco grinned proudly down at her as she laughed, lying back on the cool sheets and twitching the green robe to cover more of her skin. He leaned down and kissed her gently.

"I hope you're not wearing anything under that, my love."

It was a ridiculously ostentatious house, just like he was as a person. And she didn't mind it as much as she pretended to, besides, they personalized it and her parent's couch still sat at the end of the bed. She loved that house, their house, with the cypress by the gate.


End file.
